Metamorphosis

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People are bound to change over the course of life physically, mentally and emotionally. Most would go either left or right on crossroads, but we know that they are going on, moving forward. We also might find ourselves in need to step back off some things, plan another approach. Metamorphosis is change, transition, evolution. Some people change for the worse, but we all strive to be better, the best version of ourselves. What about those who took too many steps back? How much progress would they make? Were there any change at all?

I'm afraid, of myself. Well not really, my old self was capable and efficient. It's just the end can't justify the means, I really don't want to go down that road again, for the sake of people I've come to know. I'm sitting on a mount of bodies, the higher it stacks up, the further I could see. "Don't look down, it's just their time. All of us live on borrowed time. One day you'll be part of the mountain, but for now make sure to climb all the way up, we owe them at least that". That's what we kept telling ourselves.

We wanted to help realise dreams, because those people ran out of sands in their hourglass. Heh, 'we'? It is actually just 'I'. This emptiness, a sign he's coming. I feel alone, even when I'm aware of myself of being surrounded by interesting people. I'm a stopwatch, I got all the time in this world and the ability to reset. "What's happening? Why are the hands going counter clockwise? What's with this smile? Why am I getting excited?" Why am I welcoming that brat? Why does it feel good. Why do I feel fake, pretending to care. I'm a selfish brat, violent and efficient. At least then I feel like I'm capable. I'm sorry, I hate being rotten but now I really hate being pasty. The mask is off, time goes backwards and I'm coming back. Bear with me until I realize my responsibilities as an adult again, until I can say "This is fine".

I wanted to believe in humanity, well I did. But when I lose faith in myself, then I can't see it going any better for the rest. So yeah, let's see how I fight myself again. Bless it, I had to handle all the dead people and now my old self is jumping into this. I can't see myself being the same again, and this change seem to be going on quite the direction. I thought I was already a butterfly, but my pupa self had something to say about it. I might come out as a an insect with a sting, or something with beautiful wings. All that is certain, something is struggling in the pupa.